


which way do you swing?

by emotionalpanda



Category: Dead To Me (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Angst, being gay on swingsets, food network gays, mild homophobia, repressed lesbian jen, this was supposed to be a oneshot but i slipped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:28:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25697302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emotionalpanda/pseuds/emotionalpanda
Summary: AU first meeting: Jen rescues Judy from a gross man at the bar by pretending to be her gf.orJen realizing she might not be so straight after all!
Relationships: Judy Hale/Jen Harding
Comments: 67
Kudos: 163





	1. at the bar

Jen was having a particularly boring night at the bar, but it was her night off from the kids and she was determined to make the best of it. The bar was some grimy hole in the wall, the floor peppered with dirt. _Hopefully just dirt._ But Jen didn’t trust like that; she wouldn’t be breakdancing any time soon.

She sipped her cheap glass of white wine, sitting alone at a small table. A herd of twenty-two year olds swarmed the bartender, and Jen could tell that none of them were wearing deodorant. She crinkled her nose. The room was starting to smell faintly like ass, but Jen was just tipsy enough to ignore it. After spending a few minutes in the path of the stink cloud, Jen fantasized about spraying them with some goddamn cologne or febreze or _something._

Jen was just about to go give the group a firm motherly talking-to about the importance of good hygiene, but as she stood up to do so, she noticed a woman sitting in the corner. The woman locked eyes with Jen from across the room, and Jen could tell the look meant something. She recognized that look: those were “help me” eyes. Jen looked around to see what the threat was and spotted a man leaning in too close to the woman, smug smile on his face. He looked like the kind of guy who couldn’t take a hint, even if it hit him like a brick. Just from watching the scene, Jen wanted to punch the guy in his slimy little face.

_That fucker._

Jen knew that if she got into a bar fight, Lorna would hold it over her head every chance she got, probably for forever, until some stray asteroid hit the earth and shut her up. _That might take a while._

It was either get into a bar fight (and face Lorna’s wrath), or get into the fun little hobby of fake-lesbianism (and face Lorna’s wrath if and only if she ever found out).

Jen gave the woman a quick once over: her dress was cute, a bit too floral for Jen’s taste in clothing, but it seemed to work on her. She looked hippie enough to potentially be a stoner, which was good enough for Jen, as she hadn’t been high in ages and really missed it.

_Lesbianism it is._

* * *

Jen strode across the room, hoping to appear more confident about this plan than she actually was. On the inside, she was screaming: _You don’t have what it takes to be a lesbian! No one’s going to believe it, you stupid fucking idiot_. Jen took a quick glance down at her fingernails. They were short and free of nail polish.

_Okay, maybe someone would believe it._

She reached the side of the bar where the woman was trapped next to the gross nightmare man.

_Now or never._

“Hey babe!” Jen approached the woman from behind. She put a hand on the woman’s shoulder, slapped on a big fake smile, and leaned in to whisper: “play along.”

The woman blinked back at Jen for a second like a deer in the headlights, but quickly shook off the surprise and leapt into action. She gave Jen a quick peck on the lips, then purred: “Hi babe, I missed you. Was the bathroom line that long?”

Their lips had barely met, only for a split second really, but for some reason, Jen knew she would remember it. It’s like it was cemented in a fucking scrapbook or something, stamped and recorded with glitter glue or whatever to say: this moment would be an important moment in hindsight.

_God fucking damn it._

Jen took the woman’s hand and laced their fingers together. She gave the hand a squeeze.

Jen turned toward the man, glare on her face, “Move on, she’s mine.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. He looked down at their joined hands and back up at their faces. He muttered under his breath, “Fucking dykes.”

Jen’s stomach dropped, and she squeezed the woman’s hand tighter. Why did that word feel like such a gut punch? Jen didn’t want to think about it.

Her face grew red hot and she could feel her blood boil. The fucking nerve of this guy to say that to them. The fucking nerve.

Before Jen really knew what she was doing, her knuckles had already collided with the guy’s face. _Oops_. The punch made a gross cracking sound and Jen couldn’t tell if it had come from her hand or the guy’s bones.

“You fucking bitch!!” Blood dripped from his face. He covered his nose with his hand. “You just broke my fucking nose!”

Okay, so maybe Jen got into an itty bitty bar fight. The “Lorna would hate this” list was quickly becoming a to-do list. Lorna could suck it.

The man looked like he was about to fight back. His fists clenched in a way that made Jen uneasy. _Uh oh._

Jen gave the woman a look and tilted her head toward the bar exit. The woman nodded.

And so they ran.

* * *

They stumbled across some deserted playground a few blocks away. Jen wasn’t paying attention to how far they ran; she was too busy thinking about how alive she felt, for the first time in a long time.

Breathing heavy, they collapsed onto the swings.

The woman turned to Jen, “You know, usually when someone punches a guy for me, I know the name of that person.”

Jen scrunched her face, “How many fucking pricks do you usually have to deal with?”

“A few. But really I just wanted to know your name. That was pretty badass back there.”

“It’s Jen. And yeah I don’t really go punching men every day. But, I mean, he’s definitely not my first… so.”

“Ooh, gotta admit that’s kinda hot.” The woman nodded to herself.

“You didn’t tell me your name.” Jen commented.

“Oh yeah, sorry. It’s Judy.”

_Judy._

They sat in silence, gently swinging, feet dragging in the dirt below them. The moon hung overhead like the biggest fucking chandelier, and the atmosphere was weirdly romantic. A night breeze caressed Jen’s skin and made her shiver. Her hand ached like a bitch.

“Can I see your hand?” Judy asked, reaching out for it. She stepped her swing closer to Jen’s.

Jen dropped her hand into Judy’s lap with minor hesitation. A part of Jen really wanted Judy to touch her again. She needed to know if the electricity she felt from Judy’s touch really happened, or if it just sparked off of the adrenaline of the situation.

“Well, it doesn’t look broken. Might bruise though.” Judy stated, her thumb tracing over Jen’s fingers. The feeling of Judy’s touch was just as electric as before.

_Shit. Guess it wasn’t just a fluke._

Jen hummed in response, afraid to make eye contact because eye contact meant vulnerability and vulnerability would lead to Jen doing something crazy, like kissing Judy. A real kiss. And maybe that’s something that Jen desperately wanted, here on this fucking playground of all places. And maybe that feeling was stupid, because oh god, why would Judy even like her like that? It was just an act back there, surely—

“Jen? Are you okay?” Judy’s thumb was now tracing circles on Jen’s hand.

Jen couldn’t tell if the thumb circles were mindless or purposeful, but either way, the touch was so soft. Jen couldn’t focus on anything else.

She knew that Judy was looking at her. She _wanted_ Judy to be looking at her. Still, the idea of returning that gaze felt far too much for Jen to handle. Jen had never felt such a confusing cocktail of comfort and self-consciousness

Jen continued to avoid eye contact. She looked anywhere else: the monkey bars in the distance, the bright yellow slide (that Jen could tell would be a static shock nightmare), the merry-go-round that would make any kid nauseous.

Judy was still touching her hand.

The silence lingered for a while until Judy piped up again, “You know, if you’re being this weird because you want to kiss me again, you can just ask. It’s okay.”

Jen looked at Judy, dumbfounded: “I can?”

The idea of asking hadn’t even occurred to Jen. Maybe this whole thing could be easy, if Judy kept smirking at her and reading her mind.

Judy smiled, “Totally.” She laughed and held Jen’s hand up in the air so Jen could see that their hands were still touching, “I mean, I’ve been holding your hand for at least twenty minutes, Jen. And we’re not in the bar anymore, so.”

“So?” Jen asked, still unsure.

“I want you to kiss me. If that’s something you want to do.” Judy offered.

And so Jen went for it, cupping Judy’s face in her hands and letting the warmth of the kiss wash over her like some fucking tidal wave of gay revelation. A strand of Judy’s hair tickled Jen’s nose and suddenly, all Jen could do was laugh. She laughed a deep belly laugh, bursting with newfound joy. Jen didn’t know the world could feel like this: so open and inviting like a perpetual spring without the allergies. Maybe the clichés were fucking right.

Jen was having a particularly boring night at the bar until she wasn’t.


	2. at the coffee shop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here i am extending a one shot into a multi part thing bc repressed lesbian jen is fun to write

Jen was happy, too happy. She wasn’t used to being happy. To be honest, it freaked her the fuck out. Sadness made sense: she could expect the worst, and when the worst came, she’d be prepared for it. She knew how to deal with it.

Hope was a whole different thing, so open ended, so dangerous. Jen hated it.

Jen had gotten Judy’s number that night on the swings (sometime before Jen made up an excuse to flee). Judy’s contact had a moon emoji next to her name because Judy wanted Jen to associate her with moonlight or something. Or was it to remind Jen to look up her moon sign? Jen couldn’t remember. She didn’t know what the fuck a moon sign was anyway. Moons don’t have hands, how are they supposed to give out autographs?

That had been a few days ago. Jen still hadn’t called or texted, and that meant Judy didn’t have her number. _Maybe it’s better that way._

If Judy didn’t have her number, there’d be no way for Judy to find her. Jen could just pretend that night didn’t happen. She could lock that memory away, bury the key, build a house on top of that grave, then sell the house. It could all be so simple. She’d find some non-threatening man with a soft face, someone who didn’t make her think too hard about anything, someone boring but tolerable, and she’d be fine. Maybe it wouldn’t be great, but it would be good enough. She’d be happy enough.

Or at least she would be, if the memory of Judy’s lips wasn’t prominently placed in her mind like a side of the road billboard strung up with flashing lights saying “look at me! look at me!”

Jen thought kisses were supposed to feel mediocre. Movies had just been making them look magical because that’s what movies did: they made everything seem better than it really was.

Judy’s kiss didn’t feel mediocre. It felt fucking fantastic.

Maybe this was the mid-life crisis everyone was always going on about. Bumblebees boxed each other in Jen’s stomach and she was going to throw up soon if they kept at it. Jen just needed to text Judy: type some stupid message, click send, and then immediately turn her phone off, maybe keep her phone turned off for a day or a week. She could go off the grid if she had to, she’d watched enough Naked and Afraid to feel vaguely confident about spearing fish with sharp sticks. Phones were stupid anyway.

Jen stared at her phone. As soon as she unlocked it, the screen pulled up the contact page: Judy’s contact specifically. It felt like it was mocking her: _you dumb bitch you can’t even send one text, what are you? a nervous teenager? you’re in your fucking forties._

Jen got fed up. She opened her messages and started drafting a text.

**“I’d be your fake gf any day”**

_Too forward._

**“Hi! It’s Jen, do you want to hang out again?”**

_Kinda gay._

**“What are your thoughts on spinach? This is Jen btw”**

_Perfect. Spinach is a safe topic, right?_

Jen nodded to herself, clicked send, and then hid her phone under a couch cushion. She forgot to turn her sound off before doing so, though, so a minute later Jen’s phone dinged from its hiding spot.

Jen crossed her arms and stared at the couch cushion, determined to not check it so soon. She really wished that she had turned the sound off.

It dinged again. Jen couldn’t take the wondering, so she grabbed her phone to look at it.

**Judy [5:45pm]: spinach? it’s so good in oat milk smoothies!! especially with mango. but I hate when I try to sauté it and it does the whole shrinky thing. I always feel so betrayed.**

**Judy [5:46pm]: I was hoping you’d text**

Jen smiled down at her phone, then shook her head to try to snap herself out of it. She was _not_ going to get all mushy over some woman she barely knew. That would be ridiculous. Her fingers, however, had an agenda of their own as they typed out a reply:

**Jen [5:50pm]: ive never had oat milk, is it good?**

**Judy [5:50pm]: oh it’s so good, and super sustainable. It’s like *chefs kiss* in coffee, you gotta try it**

**Jen [5:51pm]: hmm… you had me at coffee**

**Judy [5:53pm]: hey, wanna get coffee sometime? I’d suggest drinks but I don’t want to run into that guy again, yknow the one.**

Jen stared at her phone, trying to figure out if Judy was asking her out on a date or not. Coffee was just coffee, right? Friends got coffee together all the time, it didn’t have to be a _thing_.

Jen kind of wanted it to be a thing.

**Jen [5:55pm]: you mean the guy I punched? Yeah I don’t want to see that asshole again**

**Jen [5:55pm]: but coffee would be nice**

Jen let out a sigh of relief; she had said the thing she wanted to say: she wanted to see Judy again. The thought was sent out into the universe; she couldn’t take it back now.

Her phone dinged again:

**Judy [5:57pm]: great!!! How about Super Smash Brews at 6 tomorrow? Is that ok?**

Jen took a deep breath before confirming:

**Jen [5:59pm] sure, I’ll meet you there**

* * *

The next day came and Jen didn’t know what to do with herself. She went to work, as usual, but the day was anything but usual. She was good at selling houses, she really was, but normally the buyers would get on every last one of Jen’s nerves and it would take a massive amount of restraint not to snap at them. Today, she was unexpectedly chipper, like a ray of fucking sunshine. It was gross.

“You’re awfully perky today,” Christopher, her coworker, commented. They had just sold a house and Jen hadn’t whisper-complained even once. He grinned, “Do you have any… _plans?”_ He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

She glared at him, “Not that it’s any of your business, but I guess I do have a thing…”

“A thing, huh? You haven’t had a _thing_ in a while,” He did air quotes with his fingers, “Who’s the lucky guy? Is he hot? Does he have a dog? Adele needs a play date.” Christopher kept asking questions and speculating about the _guy_ Jen was doing a thing with, and Jen didn’t know how to tell him.

“Uh, well…” Jen started. Christopher gave her a worried look.

“Wait,” He put his hand out like a stop sign, “if he’s a cat person, don’t tell me. I don’t wanna know. Adele would never get over the heartbreak.”

“Actually…” Jen tried again.

“Oh no, so he _is_ a cat person! Well, there’s still time to cancel…”

Jen shook her head, “No, no… Just let me fucking talk, okay? Her name’s Judy.”

Christopher’s eyes went big and his mouth opened as if to speak.

Jen pointed her finger at him, “Don’t. We’re not discussing this. It’s just coffee.”

Christopher scoffed, “Just coffee, my ass.”

“Shut up” Jen frowned, “Speaking of which, I have to go.” Jen headed toward her car, ready to end the work day and avoid the conversation that Christopher clearly wanted to have. He was going to start asking her questions about feelings or whatever and she was not going to let that happen.

Christopher called out after her, “Well, if you need more plaid, I have Kohl’s cash you can use!”

Jen got into her car, slammed the door, and sped off.

* * *

Jen spent too long getting dressed. She had plenty of outfits that were clean and ready to wear, but picking one had been a big challenge. _This isn’t fucking prom. Just wear something._

She settled on something similar to her work outfits: blouse, blazer, pants, but this time with an added spritz of her most expensive perfume. So maybe she was a little overdressed for just coffee. She was stressed, and power-bitch-blazers made her feel better about herself.

“There’s a frozen pizza in the freezer if you get hungry before I’m back,” Jen told Charlie, “Homework before video games, okay? I don’t want to get any more calls from your teachers.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, mom. Have fun on your _date_.” Charlie smirked.

Jen ignored that, and added: “Remember to preheat the oven before you put the pizza in, okay? That’s not a skippable part. 350 degrees.”

Charlie rolled his eyes and started playing a game on his phone.

Fifteen minutes of minimal traffic later, Jen pulled up to Super Smash Brews. The coffee shop was video game themed, because of course it fucking was. The idea gave Jen a headache but she was so excited to see Judy; she could forgive the coffee shop owners for their stupid store theme.

As soon as she walked in, she spotted Judy, partially because Judy was wearing a shirt with bright reds and yellows, but mostly because Judy was the prettiest person in the room. The thought was so cheesy it made Jen cringe at herself. _Be chill, Jen._

Judy’s face lit up when she spotted Jen, “Hey, you. Do you come here often?”

Jen was oblivious, “Didn’t it just open last week?”

Judy smiled, holding back a laugh. She looked at Jen’s outfit, “Why do you look dressed for an interview?”

“What, does Super Smash Brews have a Super Smash Ban on blazers? Because I didn’t bring a change of clothes.” Jen joked.

“Well, I think you look beautiful.” Judy reached out to touch Jen’s hand, “What were you thinking of ordering? I was looking at either the Marioat milk latte or the Luigtea. The Luigtea’s a green tea, which makes sense, and might be good if you don’t wanna go too hard on caffeine.”

Jen considered it, while trying not to focus on the fact that Judy’s hand was still on hers. She decided, “I think I’ll try the, uh, Marioat milk latte.”

Judy beamed, “Great! Maybe you’ll be a new convert. I’ll do the Luigtea, then. We’ll make a great pair.” She winked at Jen, before heading toward the counter to order for them.

_A great pair_.

_A great pair_.

Jen’s mind got stuck on the phrase. Maybe Judy just meant that the drinks paired well together, because of the themed names, but the wink said something else. Sure, yeah, they had kissed twice already, but the first one didn’t count, and the second one… well the second one could’ve happened because of alcohol. It wasn’t definitive proof that Judy liked her. Maybe Jen had just looked really lonely and Judy had taken pity on her. Judy looked like the type of person who would be overly nice to someone if they looked even a teeny tiny bit sad.

Judy came back with their drinks, and set one cup in front of Jen. Jen eyed it cautiously; she had agreed to try oat milk but she wasn’t really sure what oat milk was exactly. Jen imagined a bowl of oatmeal crying into a glass.

She took a sip. Okay, it actually was tasty. “Okay maybe you were on to something.” Jen acknowledged. She took a second sip. _Is oat milk like a gay thing?_

Judy looked so happy with herself, and Judy looking happy made Jen feel happy. Judy’s smile was so precious, it made Jen want to kiss her.

_Again, with the kissing thoughts? Oh boy._

Judy seemed to catch her staring, but she didn’t call her out on it. Instead, she offered Jen her _Luigtea_ , “I don’t know if you’re a tea person, but wanna try a sip?”

Jen wasn’t a tea person, never had been. But, she took a sip anyway just to humor Judy. All Jen could think about was how Judy’s lips had just touched the cup her own lips were now touching.

Maybe Jen could become a tea person, if it meant sharing a cup with Judy.


	3. at the waterpark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok time for more gay shit hope u have fun with this one
> 
> shoutout to my friend for always texting me stuff like "what if jen and judy were at a waterpark?" this chapter wouldnt exist without u!

After the day at the coffee shop, Jen got into a habit of texting Judy every day. Jen _never_ texted anyone every day, but talking to Judy was actually fucking interesting, and she couldn’t say the same about other people. Judy was a zesty texter, both in the way she joked and in the way she argued about the importance of citrus zest in cooking. She seemed to have a lot of cooking opinions. She was constantly live-texting episodes of Food Network’s _Chopped_ , and complaining about the cooks not “transforming the ingredients.” _Whatever the hell that means…_

Sometimes they’d call, usually at night when Jen’s kids were asleep. Jen cherished those calls. Of course, Jen wanted to see Judy in person. She wanted Judy to touch her; she wanted Judy to wink at her again. She wanted Judy to say her name with that soft little smile because it made Jen feel like she’d just downed five shots of espresso (in a good way). But, she didn’t know how to ask for that. She wanted to _feel_ , but she wasn’t good at feeling.

Jen spent her days daydreaming about Judy: her laugh, the rings on her hands, the way she looked at Jen as if she knew something Jen didn’t: something Jen had been trying too hard not to know.

It didn’t help that Judy sent her good night texts every night and good morning texts every morning. The texts usually had a purple heart emoji as punctuation, but if Jen mentioned having a rough day at work, Judy would add a picture of a baby otter or some other baby animal she found on google images. Apparently, Judy had a whole fucking album full of them and the album was constantly growing. Jen found herself looking forward to them. Sometimes the animals were wearing these little hats and they looked fucking ridiculous in that I-wanna-puke-this-is-so-cute way.

It was starting to turn Jen soft.

She was getting tired of fighting off that softness.

* * *

Jen stood in the kitchen, mug of earl grey tea steaming next to her. She bobbed the tea bag and frowned at the cup. Judy had mentioned earl grey tea in a text once, had bubbled excitedly about the idea of finding some grey dog from some place and naming him Earl after the tea. Jen had to admit that the idea was kind of clever. She laughed at the idea of the dog being some big-bulldozer-breed-mix, the type of dog that could stand up and put its paws on Judy’s shoulders like a hug. Earl Grey could be the best guard dog, as long as they didn’t advertise the fact that he was named after a fucking tea flavor.

And maybe in this imagined dog scenario, Jen imagined herself there, with Judy. Maybe she imagined herself going to some stupid, overpriced, organic pet-shop with Judy: Judy would insist on getting the leash with the acorns on it, because “acorns represent growth” or something, and Jen would give in and nod because anything that made Judy happy was something worth doing.

Maybe she was in a lot deeper than she thought she was.

She took a sip. _Hmm, not bad._

“Hey, mom, can we go to the waterpark?” Henry asked from his seat on the couch. 

Jen looked up, “What was that, boop?”

“The waterpark. They have all these super cool slides…Mom, please, can we go?” Henry looked at her with puppy eyes.

Jen sighed, “Does Charlie want to go?”

Henry nodded, “He said he’d go because there’s girls there.”

Jen wanted to roll her eyes at that answer, but she held herself back.

She wanted to be a good mom, the type of mom that let her kids do fun things even if the fun things were a pain in the ass. Jen hated waterparks: they were gross and hot and probably full of pee. If Jen wasn’t constantly marinating herself in SPF 50, she’d be roasting like a pork loin: blisters on her shoulders that made bras a bitch to wear. She always remembered the sunscreen, but she didn’t trust the sun not to sneak up on her and turn her skin lobster red anyway. The sun was kind of a bitch.

Jen could ask Judy if she wanted to go. That could make the trip bearable. Judy hadn’t met her kids, but she had heard plenty about them through Jen’s daily updates. Every time Jen sent Judy a picture of herself with her kids, Judy would respond by heart reacting the picture and sending way too many exclamation points.

Jen told Henry, “Give me a minute to think about it.”

She picked up her phone and opened her messages.

**Jen [9:27am]: my kids want to go to a waterpark SOS**

**Judy [9:29am]: what do you have against waterparks?? theyre fun!**

**Jen [9:30am]: it’s like paying money to get an ear infection, not really my thing**

**Judy [9:31am]: youre right but I don’t want to believe it**

**Judy [9:31am]: slides fun :(**

**Jen [9:32am]: …itd be fun if you came with us, we could pick you up?**

**Judy [9:33am]: id love that!**

* * *

After a quick breakfast, Jen and her kids went to pick up Judy at her apartment complex. When they arrived, Judy was outside with a floral print backpack probably filled to the brim with waterpark necessities. She was crouched down next to a tomato plant, examining its roots. _Who is she, Ina Garten?_

Jen honked her horn and Judy jumped. She gave Jen a smile and wave, then headed to the car.

The boys had been grumbling about the lack of music in the car. The problem was: Jen only had a few songs stored on her phone and half of them were heavy metal. She didn’t want to play those and scare Judy off, or accidentally destroy her children’s eardrums. The radio wouldn’t work either—the radio hosts loved the sound of their own voices and the constant bunion surgery commercials drove Jen up the wall.

Judy clicked on her seatbelt. She turned to face the boys in the backseat, “Hey! It’s so nice to meet you guys,” She lowered her voice to a volume Jen could still hear, “I don’t know if you knew, but your mom’s really cool.”

Charlie looked to Judy and then to Jen, trying to figure them out, “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

Henry nodded, “I think she’s cool!’

Judy turned back to face Jen and pulled out her phone, “So, I know this isn’t like a super long drive or anything, but I always have playlists ready... Does your car have an aux cord?”

As the drive went on, Judy cycled through Eurythmics, Fleetwood Mac, and then The Beach Boys. “Good Vibrations” by The Beach Boys started playing through the phone speaker and Judy lightly tapped Jen’s thigh in excitement, “This is the one!”

Jen quickly glanced at Judy, before turning her eyes back to the road, “The what?”

“The chorus of this kinda sounds like they’re saying “bird migration” instead of “good vibrations,” but honestly those two kinda go together? Because bird migration _does_ give me good vibes. It’s like what Mary Oliver said about the wild geese…”

Judy kept rambling about bird poems and The Beach Boys parodies. Jen had no clue what Judy was talking about because she couldn’t really focus on Judy talking. Judy was the type of person who talked with her hands. If Jen started looking at Judy’s hands, she’d get too distracted and crash the car.

_I bet she’s good with those hands._

Jen screamed internally at herself for suddenly imagining what Judy would look like in lingerie. _Oh god, why did I invite her to a waterpark? She’s going to be in a fucking bikini! That’s almost the same fucking thing!_

Jen tightened her grip on the steering wheel for the rest of the trip.

* * *

The park was as loud and annoying as Jen expected it to be. The air smelled like sunscreen and wet towels. The delighted screams of children poured out from all directions, and Jen wished she had packed some ibuprofen to soothe the headache she’d be getting in fifteen minutes.

“I was thinking we should get a bunch of sunscreen on, and then put our stuff in a locker before everyone starts going on all the slides.” Judy said as she reached to unzip her backpack, “I brought spray and lotion. I think the lotion lasts longer, and I’m not a big fan of using the spray because aerosols aren’t super great for the environment, but I totally get it if you don’t want me to have to rub the sunscreen all over your back.”

Jen really wanted Judy to rub sunscreen on her back, but she didn’t want to seem too eager and weird about it, so she said, “Lotion is fine, you can touch me. I don’t want the penguins to die, or whatever.”

Judy smiled, grabbed a bottle of SPF-50, and said from behind Jen, “Okay, take your shirt off.”

Jen gulped.

Judy hesitated, “You _are_ wearing a bathing suit underneath that, right? I don’t want to make you accidentally flash everyone here. Not that I would mind, but other people might…”

“No, no. I’m wearing a bathing suit, don’t worry,” Jen pulled the shirt over her head and stuffed it into a bag.

Judy’s hands made contact with Jen’s back and Jen shivered. She tried her best to keep her shoulders relaxed, but it was too hard. Jen felt like she could feel every centimeter of Judy’s fingers brushing over her shoulder muscles. _Fuck._

After Jen was fully protected from the sun’s evil rays, Judy tapped her on the shoulder.

When Jen turned around, she saw that Judy was wearing a stunning black bikini. Jen suddenly felt faint.

“Do me?” Judy asked, lifting her hair up to expose her back and neck.

Jen blinked. _Oh, she meant sunscreen._ “Yeah, sure.”

Once everyone was sufficiently coated in sunscreen, and all the bags were locked away, Jen turned to her kids: “I know you’re going to run off and do whatever you want, but please at least try to be careful? Charlie, keep an eye on your brother. Stick together, don’t talk to strangers, and meet us back here by 4:00, okay?”

The kids agreed and ran off to find the tallest, fastest slides.

Jen looked at Judy, “They just run too fast for me, y’know? I couldn’t keep up with them if I tried. And trust me, I’ve tried.”

“I get it. I mean, I sometimes go for jogs, but I’m definitely not as athletic as I was when I was younger…”

Jen looked at Judy curiously, “You were an athlete?”

“I did softball for a while, a long time ago.”

They started walking down one of the park paths. Judy continued, “I wasn’t very good at it… I’d swing and miss all the time. I was probably like, the worst player on the team. But the other girls were so nice to me…”

“So you stuck around.” Jen said. She could understand that.

“So I stuck around.” Judy confirmed with a small laugh, “It should’ve been so obvious to me, why I was there, but it didn’t hit me until like, years later.”

“Yeah…” Jen said, looking down.

Judy gently grabbed Jen’s arm, causing Jen to make eye contact with her. They held the eye contact for a moment, before Judy pointed to a sign and said, “Look, that slide looks badass, and the inner tubes are for two people! Perfect.”

Jen looked at the sky-high set of stairs leading up to the top of the slide. The slide’s tubes looked long and twisted, like someone had tried to make pretzels but had really fucked up the job.

Judy grabbed Jen’s hand to lead her up the stairs. Jen decided she had to follow Judy onto the slide because that was the only way to continue holding her hand.

They reached the top of the slide and the worker set up a tube near the entrance. The guy had an oily looking face and sweat stains in his shirt. He clearly didn’t want to be there.

“Alright, uh, one of you needs to sit, uh, here. And the other one has to sit there.” He pointed at the two seats.

“I can be in the back,” Jen offered, moving to claim that seat. Judy nodded at the choice and climbed into the tube. Jen realized that by choosing the backseat, she had signed up to have Judy sitting in between her legs. _If Judy leaned her head back, her head would be… oh._

Jen could smell Judy’s shampoo from her seat. It smelled a hell of a lot better than chlorine-piss-water, so it was a welcome distraction.

The guy spoke up, “Three, two, one, go!” He gave them a gentle push down the slide.

Jen gripped the tube handles, holding on for dear life. The quick drop of the slide and the constant turns forced Judy to lean into Jen just enough for Jen to feel like her body was on fire. _If this is how I die, this is how I fucking die._

* * *

Judy somehow convinced Jen to go on more slides, but only the ones where they could share a tube. Jen wondered if that was on purpose, if Judy really wanted to be that close to Jen while Jen spit out expletives at every turn. Maybe Judy just really liked those slides for a different reason, and the closeness was just a coincidence.

Jen hoped it wasn’t just a coincidence. It couldn’t just be a coincidence, could it? Judy was so consistently nice to Jen, consistently _way too nice_ to Jen, and it made Jen feel… odd. She felt odd and warm and whole and scared. Judy’s presence was bringing out all these new, combined sensations: feelings that Jen never felt with the men of her past. Whenever a boyfriend had complimented Jen, she’d felt flattered, but never fluttery. This was fluttery: a whole fucking swarm of fluttery feelings.

Jen liked Judy.

Jen _really liked_ Judy.

_Well that should’ve been fucking obvious, huh? You think about kissing her all the damn time, you dumb gay bitch._

Jen groaned, not realizing she was groaning out loud. They were sitting at a picnic table waiting for Charlie and Henry to meet up with them for a meal.

Judy heard the groan and sprang into action. Within a second, Judy was standing behind Jen, examining her shoulders, “What is it? Did you get a sunburn? Did we forget to re-apply? Shit!” She inspected Jen’s back, “Wait… you’re not pink… you’re good, sorry.”

In that moment, Charlie and Henry decided to return. Charlie looked at Jen with raised eyebrows. Judy’s hands were still rubbing Jen’s back and she was still leaning down with her head near Jen’s. Jen had to admit it probably looked like an intimate moment.

The boys sat down and Charlie spoke up immediately, “Are you guys, like… gay together or something?”

They answered at the same time:

“Kinda?” Judy replied.

“I don’t know,” Jen replied.

They looked at each other in surprise.

Silence followed, until Henry said, “Let’s get pizza!”

* * *

Jen used the pizza as an excuse not to talk about it, and then she kept finding new excuses. She talked about the weather: how the weathermen sucked at their job; she discussed the San Andreas fault line and how it would be pretty fucking inconvenient if that big earthquake happened anytime soon. She talked about anything and everything that didn’t involve women and wanting to kiss them.

They were walking to the car, the boys trailing somewhere far behind them, when Judy finally got fed up with Jen’s avoidance of the topic.

“Jen.” Judy grabbed Jen’s arm, “What did you mean by that?”

“The San Andreas fault line? Well, there’s bound to be a big earthquake there eventua—“

“Jen.” Judy got closer, looking Jen in the eye, “You know that’s not what I was asking about. What did you mean? Is this just a friend thing? It’s okay if it is, but I can’t tell if that’s what you want.”

“I don’t want that.” Jen said, trying to avoid eye contact.

“Oh.” Judy frowned, disappointment splashed across her face.

Jen continued, “I, uh… I meant that I don’t want to be _just_ friends… I don’t know what I’m doing, Judy!” She let out a deep breath, “I just know that I’ve been thinking about kissing you, again, since that first night, because wow… But I didn’t know how to say that! I don’t know how to say anything. It’s just that you… you showed up and wrecked my fucking world, in the best possible way, and now I don’t know how to move forward with my life. I just know that I want you in it.”

Judy was smiling so big it looked like she was going to start laughing, but she didn’t laugh. She just pulled Jen in and kissed her.

Jen felt Judy’s hands cupping her face as she melted into the kiss. They were warm and soft; Jen didn’t give a shit if Judy’s rings could get stuck in her hair.

Judy pulled away too quickly for Jen’s liking, but Judy explained, “As much as I would love to kiss you more, there’s a few dads in this parking lot ogling us, and I don’t need you punching any more men for me right now, even though that one time was totally hot. Also your kids are like, right there,” Judy motioned to Henry and Charlie getting closer to the car, “To be continued?” Judy asked.

“To be continued,” Jen replied.

She waved to her sons, then turned back to Judy and added, “You know, I think there’s a Chopped marathon on tonight… If you were interested…”

Judy took the hint, “I’d love to stay over! Though, you should know, if we watch too many episodes… I might have to challenge you to a cooking duel, so be ready.” Judy tried to put on a serious face, but she broke into a laugh.

The four of them climbed into the car.

Once seated, Jen leaned over to Judy to whisper: “You wouldn’t.”

Judy whispered back, “Oh, I totally would.”


	4. at home

“You have an outdoor living room? That’s fancy!” Judy commented as Jen gave her a tour of the house.

“Yeah, well, I’m just glad it doesn’t storm here often. That’d be a fucking bummer,” Jen replied.

The boys were inside playing Crossing Animals or whatever that game was called—Jen wasn’t exactly a gamer. She was more of a Scrabble person; she loved getting a “Q” or “Z” tile, coming up with a word that sounded like a word but wasn’t, and claiming that prized triple word score so she could gloat for ages. No one ever called her out on it. Frankly, it wasn’t that deep.

They had all changed out of their bathing suits and taken showers. Jen insisted on that happening first thing because she hated the feeling of sitting in chlorinated dampness for any longer than absolutely necessary. It made her feel disgusting. _I’m not a fucking pickle!_

Now Judy was sitting next to her, super close to her, and Jen was trying to figure out how to relax. Judy liked her as more than a friend. That bit of information thumped in Jen’s head like a heartbeat, but she still had trouble believing it was true. Judy, ball of sunshine disguised as a woman, liked Jen, who always thought herself to be committed to coldness. Judy _liked_ her.

The sound of Judy pouring a glass of wine interrupted Jen’s thoughts.

“Want some?” Judy offered, holding the open bottle next to an empty glass.

“Please,” Jen replied.

Judy handed Jen a full glass of some pinot grigio Jen had spotted in the store a week ago. The brand didn’t matter too much to Jen. She figured that any brand was fine as long as it didn’t have a cork, didn’t taste like piss, and didn’t cost a billion dollars. _Corks are a fucking nightmare. Wines shouldn’t make you do a puzzle before you can drink it._

Judy swirled the wine in her glass, lifted it up to her nose to sniff it, took a tiny sip, and smacked her lips together repeatedly in an exaggerated way. It was clear that Judy was making fun of wine snobs because she gave Jen a little wink before speaking:

“Mmm… The mouthfeel is…. _wine-y_. I’m detecting notes of… _grape_.”

Jen laughed, “You had me scared for a second there.”

Judy looked amused, “I had you scared?”

“Well yeah,” Jen took a sip from her glass, “I thought you were going to reveal that you were some pretentious French bitch who’d get her panties all in a twist over me buying wine on sale at Trader Joe’s. I’d have to kick you out right now.”

“Nope,” Judy set her wine down and turned to Jen, “But I _did_ date a sommelier once, her name was Kate.”

_Oh. So Judy’s dated lots of women._ “Kate?”

“Yeah, now that I’m looking back on it… she was kind of a bitch? But I mean, she _was_ hot, so.”

“Oh, so you mainly go for bitchy women, then?” Jen joked.

Judy shook her head, “What? No… That’s not… you’re not bitchy! You’re just… well, a little grumpy sometimes, but… really I think you’re a teddy bear underneath it all. You’re soft, Jen.”

Jen scowled, but the scowl turned into a smile, “Whatever.”

“Want to know why Kate broke up with me?” Judy asked.

Jen looked taken aback, “ _She_ broke up with _you?_ What the fuck?”

“I put boxed Franzia in the sangria, because the fruit makes it drinkable and I’m not going to waste something that’s easily salvageable, y’know? But she got pretty mad…”

Jen frowned into her glass, “She sounds like a handful.”

Jen grabbed the TV remote from off of the coffee table and clicked it on. Jen didn’t want to hear any more about people who wronged Judy; it was making her mad. People had the chance to date Judy, the sweetest and funniest person Jen had ever met, and they threw that opportunity away? _Fuckin’ idiots._

* * *

The sun was setting, dipping down into dusk, and a breeze had picked up. It wasn’t a cold breeze by any means, they were still in the constant furnace that is Southern California, but Judy claimed that the breeze made her shiver as she draped her arm over Jen’s shoulders. Jen knew the excuse was bullshit, but she was thankful for it because it meant that she didn’t have to initiate the contact. She could just let herself melt into it, as if it were some glorious accidental touch. Judy was making it easy for her.

Jen nestled into Judy’s side so that their heads were close to touching, and with her head on Judy’s chest, she could hear Judy’s heartbeat: the most calming piece of music.

One episode of Chopped blurred into a second one, and then a third. Jen was amazed at how easy it was to get sucked into the frantic rhythm of the show: the cooks opened baskets of crazy ingredients that would make no sense together, the giant clock started its stressful countdown, and chaos commenced. The cooks chopped onions so fast. They were constantly pouring bourbon into hot sizzling pans, which Jen thought was idiotic because doesn’t that make a giant fucking flame? _How do they still have eyebrows?_

The cooks were in the dessert round, and of course two of them were planning to make hot dog flavored ice cream. There was only one ice cream machine on the set, probably for the sake of creating ice cream drama. One cook had been slowed down; he nicked his finger while chopping up the licorice for a reduction sauce and the staff had to give him a bandage.

Judy leaned in to whisper into Jen’s ear, “Look at that one,” Judy pointed to one of the cooks, “She’s using the cloudberries as a garnish. The judges won’t like that.”

Jen looked at Judy and tried to remember what Judy always complained about in texts, “Let me guess, not transforming the basket ingredient?”

Judy gave Jen a quick kiss on the cheek and smiled, “So you _were_ listening to me! I’m touched.”

Jen yawned.

“Long day?” Judy asked.

“You could say that. But it was a good one, too.” Jen’s voice was getting softer as the drowsiness grew.

“Want to call it a night? Are you not super psyched over chicken flavored jello going into a cake? Not pumped about durian?” Judy teased Jen, nudging Jen with her elbow playfully.

“Yeah let’s call it a night. This show makes me feel bad about my cooking.”

* * *

When they got to Jen’s bedroom, Jen realized that Judy would need a set of pajamas. Of course, Judy didn’t bring pajamas. Pajamas aren’t the kind of thing someone brings to a waterpark, and they didn’t stop at her apartment on the way back home.

_Home_.

Judy was at her home. Judy was here, at Jen’s house, putting on a pair of Jen’s worn out sweatpants and a shirt Jen got from her college dance troupe. The sight of Judy in Jen’s clothes made Jen’s heart ache. She looked so soft, so comfortable, so happy to be standing there looking at Jen.

Jen wasn’t used to people being happy to see her. She felt like she should look behind herself to check to see if Judy was really looking at her, or if there was a picture of a puppy wearing a bowtie behind Jen’s head. Jen checked behind herself: no puppy picture. Judy was looking at Jen and only Jen. It was starting to make Jen feel self-conscious, so she spoke up:

“Those fit okay? I know I’m a little taller than you, so…”

“Barely taller than me,” Judy corrected with a pointed finger, “and they’re great!” Judy looked down at the shirt Jen had given her, “Dance troupe, huh? I thought you said you weren’t an athlete.”

Jen shrugged, “I’m rusty.”

“I bet you’re the best dancer there ever was. You’re just trying to be humble, but I know the truth.”

“Best dancer? That’s a stretch,” Jen laughed.

“Ooh, speaking of stretch, you’re probably like… _super flexible._ ” Judy raised her eyebrows in a way that said you-know-what-kind-of-flexible-I-mean and Jen felt her own breath hitch ever so slightly.

The thought of… _that_ made Jen’s heart beat faster, but she didn’t want Judy to know how nervous she was, so she just said: “Oh… that sounds gay.”

They climbed into bed and under the covers. Jen was lying down too close to the edge, body stiff, as if there was some invisible force field separating her from Judy. Jen wanted to be close to Judy, but closeness was such a foreign concept. Jen was scared of getting it wrong. She thought that if she wanted something too much, it would immediately slip from her grasp and fall apart. Wanting was a dangerous endeavor.

“You know you’re allowed to touch me right? We don’t need to leave room for Jesus, I mean, unless that’s what you practice, then that’s totally okay. I have nothing against the guy, he seemed pretty cool…?” Judy put her hand on her face in embarrassment, “I’m rambling. Never mind. It’s fine.”

Jen scooted closer until she was close enough to smell the toothpaste in Judy’s breath. She put her hand on Judy’s arm.

“I _do_ want to touch you. I just didn’t want to be weird…” Jen rolled her eyes at how it sounded, then continued, “I’m… I don’t know. I’m new to this.” 

“So you’re saying you want to wade into the whole gay thing instead of going for the cannonball? We can do that.” Judy reached for one of Jen’s hands and placed a tiny kiss on the knuckles.

Jen sighed, “I wish there was a guidebook on lesbianism, like fuck, Judy, do I need to start buying more belts?”

* * *

The next morning, Jen felt an arm around her waist and heard the sound of a gentle snore coming from behind her. _Judy._ It felt nice to be held. Jen hadn’t realized how starved she had been for touch, and now it was like being invited to a feast.

Jen’s stomach rumbled. _Ugh._ Breakfast was still a thing that had to happen, but Jen didn’t want to make a fool of herself by trying to cook something and having it go horribly wrong.

Jen moved to stand up as quietly as possible, hoping to not wake up Judy. Judy looked so peaceful and adorable as she slept. Jen needed to stop staring at her before she got too soft and melted into a puddle.

Judy stirred. After a few groggy blinks and a rustling of blankets, Judy was up. _Of course she’s a morning person._

“Let’s see what basket ingredients your kitchen has,” Judy declared, “I’m hoping they’re the same ingredients I need for French toast.”

They made their way downstairs, both still in pajamas. Weekends were meant for being as comfortable as possible, and bras were just not in the picture.

Judy searched every kitchen cabinet, every shelf in the fridge, and every countertop.

“Do you have eggs?” Judy asked, “I’m not seeing them.”

“I think we do. Check the middle shelf?” Jen responded, leaning against the counter.

Soon Judy had all the ingredients for French toast laid out neatly on the countertop.

Charlie and Henry came running down the stairs, prompted by the sound of the fridge opening.

“Hey mom! Hey Judy!” Henry greeted.

Charlie gave the two women a look, sizing up the situation, before speaking: “Whoa, are you teaching my mom how to cook? That’s awesome.”

Judy nodded, “I am! Do you guys want to help?”

“I do!” Henry said.

Jen gave Charlie a look that said “you better agree to this.” Charlie shrugged and joined them in the kitchen.

Judy whisked the eggs with the milk. Jen was in charge of measuring out the spices, because Judy couldn’t find the measuring spoons in the cluttered cutlery drawer, and Jen trying to do math was free entertainment for the other three. The boys were in charge of dipping the bread into the mixture and flipping the pieces around until they were like little sponges.

Judy buttered the skillet and waited until it sizzled, before putting the bread pieces in the hot pan. The four of them crowded around the stove and watched their teamwork turn into something edible.

Judy flipped it with a flourish. The French toast looked like art: golden brown swirled into yolky yellow. It was far prettier than it had any right to be. Jen stood in awe, not just in awe of the toast, but in awe of the warmth she felt from the people around her.

Judy had showed up in Jen’s life like the missing puzzle piece she didn’t know she needed. With her here, everything clicked into place.

With Judy, Jen could see a whole new world. Greys turned into vibrant purples and reds. Songs started to sound better. Jen’s days were exciting again.

They all sat together at the dining room table, passing the butter and pouring the orange juice. The boys laughed at one of Judy’s jokes: some pun about an octopus that bakes. Judy smiled at her, proud of herself for making the boys laugh, and Jen couldn’t help but stare at Judy’s beautiful smile lines.

It was physical proof that anywhere Judy went, joy followed.

Jen felt like the luckiest woman in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for taking this lil journey with me!


End file.
